I don’t usually go to places likes Rock Bottom. This massive riverfront palace of a bar seems too hip and swanky to be a hangout for a sparsely-employed freelance writer who periodically wears shirts with wolves on them. But after taking in a comedy show at the Pabst Theatre with some visiting relatives last weekend, we stumbled across the bridge to give Rock Bottom — a place I’m neither wealthy nor un-lovehandled enough to visit alone — a try.
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Doctors of Za launched just four days ago, but the response has already been great. Readers have been e-mailing in to recommend places to review, sports blogs have been linking us — even the talented and lovely Trenni Kusnierek likes the site! Finding an immediate audience is incredible, and we’re thankful for your readership.

Going forward, we’ll get each of our nine geographically spread writers involved in writing reviews. Slowly, we’ll develop a working statewide pizza index to help you on your travels to such unfamiliar terrains as Eau Claire or Bonduel (and still probably not Racine), while also weighing in on the best options when visiting places like Madison and Milwaukee.

Keep reading, bookmark us, tell your friends and please feel inclined to send in restaurant recommendations. We’ll try and lend our Epicurus meets Weekend at Bernie’s 2-style reviews to as many restaurants as we can. The Doctors are in.

Beautiful as it is, there’s not much happening in Shorewood, WI. Sure, I reside a mere five-minute stroll from a gorgeous Lake Michigan beach; my neighborhood is both nicer and more safe than any other place I’ve lived; and I have coveted driveway parking just a Peter North cumshot from Oakland Ave. But (discounting the fire-bombed remains of Britain’s) there are just two bars in my neighborhood, and I’ve slowly come to realize that I — a high functioning 24-year-old alcoholic and nighthawk — have accidentally settled in the yoga and optometry district of Greater Milwaukee.

So when I happened upon Gianelli’s, a dine-in pizza joint and one of three local businesses miraculously open past 6:30 p.m., I was excited to give it a try.

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I am only 23, but I feel fairly confident that when I die, I’ll probably be one of those sad bastard geezers who complains about all the shit I never crossed off my bucket list with my pal Morgan Freeman. “I never hang glided,” I’ll say. “I never did whippets out of a hooker’s ass while watching Fraggle Rock,” I’ll moan in between sputtery breaths. “I never wrote the great American novel about a boy, his dog, his peg leg, and their quest for religious freedom, free from the persecution of the oppressive Amish overlords and Phillies fans of Western Pennsylvania,” I’ll say, looking right into my grandson’s eyes as I surely scar him for life by dying right then. Read more »

There aren’t many things I look forward to anymore.

Beyond baseball’s opening day, open bars at weddings, and things I’ve put off until my thirties like marriage and kids (rhythm method forbid), nothing I do really evokes that sense of passion, longing and anticipation I routinely felt when I was younger. Maybe I’ve learned not to expect much from the world, or maybe I’m just a realist.

I’m not sure exactly why, but I looked forward to eating at Classic Slice.

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In my fairly minimal stint living in Milwaukee, I’ve been to Brick 3 Pizza more than any other pizza place in the area (twice). I hope that changes.

Originally led there by a towering banner reading “PIZZA” as the North Star lead the shepherds to Jesus’ manger like 50 years ago… or whatever, I (along with this site’s own “Ronnie” and another gent) decided to give this 3rd Street eatery a go a few weeks back. More recently, I was treated for lunch there by SportsBubbler’s own Dan Walsh. So between the two trips, I can safely say I’ve given Brick 3 a fair look.

Nestled within crawling distance of popular locations like Turner Hall and The Bradley Center, and close enough to The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel office to literally  smell the shit that is Anthony Witrado’s latest Brewers article, Brick 3 has a prime location — at least until the JS goes tits up and the Bucks move. And their food isn’t exactly shabby either.
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I have no reason to love Cranky Pat’s Pizzeria – but I do.

As a college student, I was one of the Oshkosh location’s inaugural cooks. It was a fun enough college job, and I worked with a group of great people. But I was also laid off during the holidays and routinely sent home an hour into my shift to save a few bucks; I reeked of oregano after every work day; I was scheduled to cook for Town Motel prostitutes and tactless frat rejects on the weekend night shift (6 p.m. to 4 a.m.) when I could’ve otherwise been getting shitfaced or having unprotected sex with my pro-choice then-girlfriend.

I was eventually fired from my $7.00/hr job at Cranky’s a scheduling oversight, thus ending a smelly, often frustrating, but unforgettable period of my life. I wouldn’t do it again, but I’m happy I worked there both for the memories it provided and – more so – for the opportunity to regularly stuff myself on the Fox Valley’s best pizza.
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Doctors of Za is a coming together of the best, brightest and most brash Wisconsin pizza aficionados. Wherever there is pizza to be consumed, we’ll be there to judge it. But where, when and the manner in which we operate is not solely as means of passing judgment, but to inform, to educate and to enlighten our fellow statesmen of all things pizza.

Read on as we strive to develop a working index of pizza reviews both in and beyond Wisconsin. Please alert us to places we’ve yet to try. And if you’d like to treat one of our contributors to slice at your restaurant, we’d straight up get wood off that.